| eggs dripping down her abdomen blue edges of barb wire jagged iguana manes shallow ponds of vu le vu precursor to eternal beetles and then�. theresnomore! l egg o to pismo beach! but there was a wrong turn followed by the magic words: "minemineminemineminemineminemineminemineminemineminemineminemineminemine!" Sunday dresses and shrimp cocktails, they serenade their little chalulus with the Venezuelan version of the festival of quickly evaporating Webster definitions make their way to a second show by the pushing of slaving ponies winding round and round the tightly contained yin and yang of discolored flakes of white lead clown make-up peeling from the hands of twisting helium monet frizzle fry balloons rising in the middle of � the clock is counting down now. in a matter of moments, there will be no more threads left here. there will only be cooky. cooky monsters. and maybe a few bits of red underoos. and lots of moldy chunks. � rising in the volcanic momentum of their chaotic chicken bobbing, the timer buzzes them back by fields of cocaine laced candy wrappers grow here and are picked by delicate dreary words of poetic rock stars get mashed by � he painted upside down pineapple cakes and neon 7-11 signs. he painted gigantic women with little purses. he painted words with funny little crisping sounds in them like �smack�. he painted until she noticed him. and then he went to �work�. but She was all I ever wanted. Well, for a little over a half hour, that is. And then there was that time when we sat at the metal top table with a model F revolver and a pair of tweezers between us. She thumbed through a Williams-Sonoma catalogue as I salted my nails and began to eat. She glanced coyly up with her �good news� and asked if I would prefer beige or Madison Ave gray for my baby�s nursery. �BABY?!� I screamed, reaching for the revolver. � |
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